


The First Part of The Story

by ibelieveinturtles



Series: Donuts in My Bra and Other Stories [27]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Darcy Lewis is Susan Sto Helit’s daughter, Gen, Inter-universal travel, The multiverse, Timey Wimey Stuff, seepage between worlds, wandering shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 08:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17556944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinturtles/pseuds/ibelieveinturtles
Summary: Darcy Ysabell Alexandra Sto Helit-Ludd may choose to live as a mortal, but she's the Daughter of Time, the Great Granddaughter of Death, and she's inherited all the family gifts…And taken over the Duchessing…And unfortunately, because there are some family gifts she avoids using, she never dreamed that last minute Hogswatch shopping would end up with her being unceremoniously abandoned in Roundworld.





	1. Stranded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zephrbabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephrbabe/gifts).



> Some time ago I took prompts to celebrate reaching 200 followers. Most of the prompts got filled in a timely manner but others…didn’t.
> 
> So, more than a year later, I’ve finally got part one of my ‘Darcy Lewis as Susan Sto Helit’s daughter’ fic/series finished and ready for unveiling.
> 
> This is an MCU/Discworld crossover/fusion. Intimate knowledge of Discworld is not required to read this because I'll try and explain things as I go… or eventually.
> 
> I re-read/listened to many of the Discworld novels in the past year, starting with Hogfather and Thief of Time. And because once I start rereading/listening I can never stop I kind of kept going. Some of them I’ve listened to more than once...
> 
> Finally, thanks to my pre-readers and beta’s, Aenaria, hkthauer, and thestanceyg.

**The First Part of The Story**

 

* * *

 

Every story has a beginning.

This is true.

It is also completely wrong.

Once you choose a beginning - draw a line in the sand, so to speak, and say, “Here! This is it! This is where it all began!” you lose a lot of information. You don’t know the _whole_ story.

Every story has a beginning.

A beginning _here_ . A beginning _there_ . A beginning _just around that corner- no, not that one; no, not that one either- ah, yes._ **_That_ ** _one_ **_._ **

 

* * *

 

 

**A beginning here...**

On the very edge of reality, Great A’Tuin the star turtle swims lazily through the cosmos, four giant elephants standing tall upon its back, the Discworld resting upon their shoulders.

High in the mountains that dominate the centre of the disc, a small valley lays nestled amongst the peaks - this is the tiny kingdom of Lancre, home to some of the Disc’s most powerful witches and rife with magic.

Here, a large grey cat stalks through the forest and into a meadow. This is Greebo - a one-eyed, flea-bitten bully of a tomcat, covered in scars, and with a tendency to Turn Human* when being a cat isn't enough to bring home the ~~bacon~~ whole pig. He rules the forests of Lancre with all the authority of a feline ten times his size, and has successfully become the patriarch of the entire cat population of the tiny country for the last thirty generations.

Not surprisingly, he belongs to a witch.

Today, Greebo is heading for the ring of standing stones known as The Dancers.

The Dancers protect and guard a ‘soft spot’ - a doorway between worlds. They prevent malicious creatures - such as Elves - from coming into the Discworld and wreaking havoc.

They don't stop cats from coming and going as they please though. Cats are a law unto themselves.

On this particular day, if someone happened to be watching as Greebo slinks between the stones, they might just see how the air shimmers and wavers, and - just for a moment - it may seem as though there is a man standing there, and then the circle is empty again.

 

* * *

  * _Some time ago Greebo was turned into a human in order to help save a princess. Once a creature’s anthropomorphic field knows there are other shapes available, it tends to use them._

* * *

 

 

**A beginning there…**

Valentino Romano is on his way home from a business meeting in East Harlem when his attention is caught by the faint cries of an animal in distress. He almost ignores it. He doesn’t need a pet. He doesn’t _want_ a pet. He doesn’t care if some mangy critter dies in the gutter. Critters die in gutters every day around here. But as he passes the mouth of an alley the cries get louder and in spite of his resolve, the sound tugs at his thin, sinewy heartstrings.

His footsteps slow and he peers into the darkness. Dark alleys aren’t a safe place for anyone or anything in this part of the city, but Valentino Romano isn’t just anyone. Valentino Romano has friends in low places and this is his city. Valentino Romano isn't afraid of anything. The animal cries again, the raspy bleat of a cat in pain. He enters the alley.

“Here kitty, kitty, kitty. Where are ya, little fella?”

There's another piteous ‘meow’ but this time it is followed by a grizzle from a newborn baby. A few minutes later he lifts a piece of cardboard and his jaw drops in astonishment.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he mutters to the creature lying under the cardboard. “How on earth did you end up here?”

Valentino looks around. Spying a discarded fruit crate a little further down the alley, he springs to his feet, pulling off his jacket as his long strides cover the short distance. Arranging the jacket in the bottom of the crate, he picks up the infant, arranging it carefully in the crate and hoping his wife won’t object too strenuously to instant motherhood.

 

* * *

 

 

**A beginning just around the metaphorical corner…**

In Time's Glass Palace there is a sound of tinkling as glass shatters and falls to the ground.

A man dressed for battle and wielding a gun appears abruptly out of nowhere, crashing through a glass wall at a full run, a scream of furious defiance tearing itself from his throat.

The sound stops as the man stumbles and falls. Rolling with the momentum, he rises smoothly to his feet and comes to an abrupt stop.

Turning on the spot, he pauses when he gets to where the broken glass is now trembling on the ground. As he watches, it vibrates, dancing merrily on the floor before rising off the ground, springing into the air, and coalescing in a reversal of the shattering it suffered mere seconds ago.

The glass wall is whole again.

The man doesn't look surprised. He just nods his head as if confirming something to himself, and flicks on the safety of his weapon. Far beyond the glass walls that stretch away into the infinite distance, a shadowy figure approaches. The man turns to face the figure and waits.

 

* * *

 

 

**And one more beginning for luck…**

Susan Sto Helit-Ludd, Duchess of Sto Helit, grand daughter of Death, Headmistress of the Lady Sybil Free School for Underprivileged Children, and patroness of the Weinrich and Boettcher Chocolate Museum, has brought her young daughter to visit Unseen University.

(While women haven't always been welcome at UU, when Death's granddaughter makes a request, not even the most stubbornly traditional wizard is going to say no. No wizard wants _that_ kind of attention.)

They visit the Library (where they share a plate of banana sandwiches with the Librarian), climb the Tower of Art, investigate several drawers in the Cabinet of Curiosity, and last - but not least -  they visit the High Energy Magic Building, where the Professor of Invisible Writings introduces Susan's daughter to HEX - the University's thinking engine - and shows them The Roundworld Project**, which is now kept on permanent display in the University Foyer (because Things keep happening and the wizards like to keep an eye on it.)

They even get to put on the Virtually There Suits and walk around a Roundworld City that looks a lot like Ancient Ankh Morpork for an afternoon.

As they are leaving, Susan's daughter thanks the wizards very politely, adding that she'd like to visit it again one day.

 

* * *

 ** ** _Roundworld_** _is a sphere-shaped world. Yes, it is silly, but people seem to be able to stand on it, so we shouldn't worry too much about it. It lies in a universe created by the wizards of Unseen University, as a way to use up the excessive magical energy generated by the splitting of the thaum. (_ _[Source)](https://wiki.lspace.org/mediawiki/Roundworld)_

* * *

 

 

**Ankh-Morpork, The Year of the Justifiably Defensive Lobster (2291 AM / 2018 UC)**

Two days before Hogswatch, Duchess Darcy Ysabell Alexandra Sto Helit-Ludd (Darcy to friends and family - the other names are strictly for formal occasions only!) is in Ankh Morpork to do her shopping before going home to spend the holiday with her parents.

The first item on her list is a box of the very best chocolate assortment from Wienrich and Boettcher for her mother. (Sadly, the rest of the list is no more than a string of question marks next to names.)

She steps out of the store, the neatly wrapped package tucked carefully away in her new travelling bag, and walks along Zephire Street towards Dolly Sisters. Next she needs to find a gift for her father, as well a little something for various grandparents. (It's always hard shopping for anthropomorphic incarnations and immortals.)

Darcy ambles along the road, lost in thought. She's thinking about Hogswatch, her parents, the ins and outs of duchessing, (she only took over the duchessing from her mother in Grune but is finding that the duty suits her very well) and that she needs to visit Unseen University to congratulate the new Arch Chancellor on his appointment, when a noise catches her attention.

She comes to a stop and looks around. The street is almost empty, but a little further along another noise emanates from the mouth of an alley.

Darcy doesn't hesitate. She may choose to live as a mortal most of the time, but she's the Daughter of Time, the Great Granddaughter of Death, and she’s inherited all of the family gifts.

Darcy has nothing to fear.

If someone needs help, then she'll help.

She allows herself to fade into the background before hurrying towards the mouth of the alley and peers around the corner. As she strides along she can feel her hair rearranging itself into a more determined style.

Nothing.

There's another noise - a scraping, wheezing, whistling sound that nudges a memory in the depths of her mind. She's heard this sound before-

No.

That's... not right. This isn't a sound she's heard before - it's a sound she'll hear again.

With a shake of her head she steps into the alley and strides along until she reaches a slight curve in the road. There's nothing to see but a tiny shop. Darcy comes to a halt in front of the shop and runs her eye over it carefully.

There's a skeleton on display in one tiny window and a dress so old that it's back in fashion again in the other. There's no one else in the alley and the shop's sign is flipped to open. The decision to step inside and see if she can find a gift for her father is an easy one.

The little shop is dark, and crammed from top to bottom with all sorts of knick knacks, baubles, trinkets, toys, novelty items, and collectibles.

Without a second thought, Darcy wanders along the closely stacked, tightly packed shelves, the fingers of her free hand running over the shelves. Up one aisle, down the next, eyes roaming from side to side as she takes it all in. Every now and then something catches her attention and she pauses for a closer inspection.

She's fully immersed in the experience when she comes across a little wooden box carved in the shape of a turtle.

She almost doesn't see it but the tips of her fingers tingle as they pass across it. She stops. Turning back, she peers into the gloomy depths of the shelf, running her hand back along the shelf until her fingertips tingle again.  Grasping the carved turtle firmly in her hand, she lifts it to eye level.

She studies it for a long moment before putting her bag on the floor. Holding the little turtle carefully in one hand, she gently twists it's shell with her other hand.

It opens to reveal an emerald pendant.

She's about to lift it out for a better look when the wheezing noise starts again, and at the same time a querulous voice speaks from behind her.

“Here, who are you? What are you doing in my shop?”

“Just shopping for Hogswatch!” Darcy replies, snapping the little turtle shut as she spins around. She holds it up as proof. “Is this sapient pearwood?”

The shopkeeper frowns slightly, then pulls out a pair of spectacles.

“Could be, could be,” he mutters, peering at the box so hard he almost goes cross eyed. “Are you going to buy it?”

“I don't know!” Darcy says. “I only just picked it up when you startled me. What is that noise by the way? It sounds very familiar.”

“What noise?” the shopkeeper asks as the wheezing gets louder.

“ _That_ noise,” Darcy says firmly, pointing upwards with her free hand, one foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

“Oh. That's my engine,” the shopkeeper says with some reluctance after Darcy gives him her best Duchess stare.

“Engine?”

“Yes. Engine,” he snaps, turning abruptly to head for the back of the shop. “How did you get in anyway? I only stopped to reset the coordinates.”

“Your sign says open,” Darcy says, following him through the narrow space between the shelves. “And what do you mean, stopped to reset the coordinates?”

She stops in her tracks as she remembers a story her mother had told her once.

“Oh! OH! Is this a wandering shop?” she asks eagerly. “Did I walk into a-”

She cuts herself off mid sentence as the shop shudders and the noise gets louder.

“What was that?” she asks.

“Wait here,” the shopkeeper says, and disappears around the end of a shelf before she can protest.

“But-” Darcy calls out, and then gives up. She lifts her hand up to brush a loose hair off her face and sees the turtle she's still holding.

She opens it again, barely noticing as the shop shudders again and the wheezing of the engine settles back into a quieter background noise.

She looks at the necklace, the green gem glinting at her through the darkness, as if a fire is burning deep inside. She lifts it from the box by the silver chain, eyes narrowed in concentration as it dangles in front of her face, rotating slightly as she tries to examine it. With a twist of her wrist she loops the chain around so she can hold the jewel in her hand, but as she touches it, green lightning flashes upwards, spreading throughout the shelves, up across the ceiling, crackling with muted thunder.

The shop groans and squeals and shudders, and then with a long grinding of gears it comes to an abrupt halt.

Darcy rocks on her feet and drops the pendant back into the box with a startled exclamation.

The following silence is broken by the shopkeeper hurtling around the corner.

“What happened?” he asks. “Are you alright?”

A tiny remnant of green lightning sparks off the shelf and grounds itself on the shopkeeper’s arm. He looks down at his arm in surprise, and then looks back up at Darcy, an expression of alarm meandering its way across his face.

“Please tell me you didn’t touch the pendant,” he says. “No one is supposed to touch the pendant.”

“It's just a necklace,” Darcy blurts out, but even as the words fall from her tongue she's cringing at herself. There's no such thing as ‘just’ in her world.

“Oh dear,” the man tuts at her. “I think you of all people know better than that, yes?”

“I didn't mean to cause any trouble,” she protests but the old shopkeeper shakes his head at her, gently takes the wooden turtle out of her hand and herds her towards the front door.

“I’m very sorry about this my dear, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you here.”

“What? No! You can’t do that!” Darcy protests, but suddenly she’s standing back outside of the little shop, her forgotten bag in her arms, and the little shop is fading out of existence.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	2. An Important Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has been stranded by the Wandering Shop owner and proceeds to make some useful discoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's available in your area, I highly recommend you download the Libby app (it's an online library catalogue, you just need a local library card!) and have a listen to one of the Discworld audiobooks - I'd recommend Mort, Reaper Man, Soul Music, or Hogfather to get a feel for Death's voice. I personally prefer the books that are read by Nigel Planer over Stephen Briggs but that's my preference. (Nigel Planer was Neil in 'The Young Ones' waaay back in the 80's. I don't know if it's on Netflix or YouTube or anything but if you can find it, take a look, because that's Rincewind's voice... he shows up in the next chapter.)

 

* * *

 

Darcy stands there in stunned surprise for an indeterminate amount of time, and finally, with a little shake, she looks around.

She's in a forest.

The shopkeeper stranded her in a forest.

A snow covered forest.

The damned bloody shopkeeper has left her in a gods-forsaken bloody snow-covered bloody forest.

She stamps her foot in a momentary lapse of temper, curses a bit for good measure, and then tries to disincarnate.

Nothing happens.

She frowns, then tries freezing time.

The snap of her fingers rings through the silent forest but again, nothing happens.

An attempt to slip into the space between the ticks of a clock has the same outcome.

Darcy’s not afraid but she’s definitely worried.

She sticks her fingers in her mouth and lets loose with a shrill whistle. Then she waits for the pale horse to arrive.

And waits.

And waits.

There's no sign of Binky.

“Return me, HEX,”*** she tries, but instead of appearing in the High Energy Magic Building she stays firmly in the forest. “That should have worked,” she mutters to herself. “Why didn't that work?”

She looks around again. There's nothing to tell her where she is, nothing to tell her where to go, and she's getting colder.

She adjusts her grip on her bag, chooses a direction at random, and starts walking.

 

* * *

  _*** in ‘Science of Discworld 3: Darwin’s Watch’ a lot of wizards had to visit Roundworld to fix a lot of ...meddling... to make sure that Sir Charles Darwin wrote ‘The Origin of Species’ instead of ‘Theology of Species’. This is how they got back._

* * *

 

An indeterminate period of time later she's starting to feel cold again (exercise will certainly warm you up for a while, but it doesn't necessarily last,) and the sun is hanging low in the sky. If she doesn't find shelter soon she's going to be in serious danger of freezing to death… or at least, extreme discomfort.

She stops to rest and take her bearings. The trees look to be thinning in the direction of the sunset so she decides to take a chance.

She turns around to take one last look at where she's come from, and it’s a sign of how tense she’s gotten when a small shriek escapes her throat at the sight of a tall cloaked figure standing behind her.

“Hello, Great Grandfather,” she sighs.

HELLO, DARCY, Death replies in a voice that rings with the echoes of a thousand dank crypts.

“Where am I?” she asks.

THE WIZARDS SAY YOU'RE IN A DIFFERENT REALITY. AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, her great grandfather says.

“Oh.” She takes a moment to process this. “Is that why I can’t disincarnate or stop time?”

I’M AFRAID SO.

“How do I get back?” Darcy asked, and then gasped in a sudden gulp of air. “ _Can_ I get back?”

OF COURSE, Death replies, leaning his scythe against a tree and sitting on a fallen log. Then he hesitates a little. PROBABLY.

Darcy slumps a little and her head droops wearily. “That doesn't sound very promising,” she says.

THERE IS VERY LITTLE MAGIC IN THIS UNIVERSE - IT RUNS ON DIFFERENT RULES TO OURS. IT ALSO MAKES INTER-DIMENSIONAL TRAVEL A LITTLE TRICKY.

“How did you find me then?”

IT WASN'T EASY, Death says evasively.

Darcy scowls at him. “If there's hardly any magic here, how are you here?”

DEATH IS MULTI UNIVERSAL. I CAN GO ANYWHERE.

“Of course,” she mutters to herself. “Everything dies.”

YES.

“So, can you take me home or not?” Darcy demands.

I CANNOT BUT NOT FOR THE REASONS YOU ARE PROBABLY THINKING.

“Well, what I’m thinking is it’s something to do with the extreme lack of magic,” Darcy says. “And wrong universey stuff.”

THAT IS CERTAINLY _A_ PROBLEM, BUT IT IS NOT _THE_ PROBLEM, Death admits.

“So what’s _the_ problem then?”

IT TOOK ME A LITTLE WHILE TO FIND YOU AFTER WE REALISED YOU HAD DISAPPEARED. IT HELPED WHEN YOU CALLED FOR BINKY.

“But I’ve been gone less than half a day!” Darcy replies. “That’s almost no time at all.”

IT HAS ONLY BEEN HALF A DAY FOR YOU NOW, BUT IT HAS BEEN... SEVERAL DAYS… FOR US.

“I'm sensing an ‘and’ at the end of that sentence.”

Death sighs. AND WHEN FIRST I ARRIVED AT YOUR LOCATION I MISJUDGED THE TIME FRAME.

“Misjudged the time frame? How can you misjudge the time frame?”

TIME IS ALSO DIFFERENT HERE. THE FIRST TIME I SAW YOU IN THIS WORLD WON'T BE FOR QUITE SOME TIME FOR YOU.

“Define ‘quite some time’,” Darcy demands, eyes flashing and arms crossed tightly over her chest - which, in spite of her best efforts, was heaving.

Death squirms on the fallen log. There was a clear aura of embarrassment emanating from him. A… FEW… YEARS.

“How _many_ years?”

I'M AFRAID I CAN'T TELL YOU THAT.

“Really? According to who?”

ACCORDING TO YOU.

“What?” Darcy deflates in surprise. “But you’re here now,” she whines.

YES. BUT THE FIRST TIME I FOUND/WILL FIND YOU WAS NOT/WILL NOT BE THE FIRST TIME YOU SAW/WILL SEE ME SINCE YOUR ARRIVAL BECAUSE YOU  WILL BE/HAVE ALREADY BEEN HERE FOR A LONG TIME, AND YOU WILL HAVE SEEN ME BEFORE THEREFORE YOU WILL SEE ME AGAIN... I’M SORRY. I THINK I’M CONFUSING US BOTH NOW.

Darcy blinks, holds a finger up, opens her mouth, closes it again, and sits down heavily. “No. I think I get it. I disappeared from Ankh Morpork. You looked for me, found me, but when you went to get me I’d already been here for a few years?”

YES.

“So I must tell you about this? You being here now?”

YES.

“I’ll be having words with my father about this when I see him again,” Darcy grumbles. “What kind of an incarnation of Time manages to loses his own daughter for _years_?”

YOUR FATHER HAS NO SWAY IN THIS REALITY. IT RUNS ON-”

“Different rules - yeah, you said that before.” She looks around at the forest again, and then across at the seven foot skeleton she calls Great Granddad. “So - where exactly am I?”

YOU ARE ON THE ROUNDWORLD, Death informs her.

“Roundworld?” Darcy blinks. “Like - Unseen University's Roundworld?”

YES, ALTHOUGH RINCEWIND AND ARCH CHANCELLOR STIBBONS AREN'T SURE IF IT'S EXACTLY THE SAME ONE. THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT THE WEAVE OF THE MULTIVERSE AND THE TROUSERS OF TIME - ALTHOUGH, WHEN I ASKED YOUR FATHER ABOUT THAT HE SAID THEY WERE ALL IN THE WASH.

“Like he even wears trousers that often,” Darcy snorts. “So what do I do now?”

YOU MUST MAKE YOUR OWN WAY IN THE WORLD, Death says.

“Oh, ye gods.” Darcy utters miserably.

ER, I CAN’T STAY FOR MUCH LONGER, Death says apologetically. WOULD- WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO TAKE YOU SOMEWHERE ELSE? I CAN’T TAKE YOU HOME BUT I CAN LEAVE YOU SOMEWHERE… Death looks around …BETTER THAN THIS.

Darcy looks up at her Great Grandfather and laughs, although there is a hint of sogginess about it. “Somewhere with a hot bath and a warm bed would be nice,” she says.

THE WIZARDS SAID THAT THEY CAN ORGANISE MONEY AND ACCOMMODATION FOR YOU. He pauses again, as if thinking about something. SUSAN SAID YOU VISITED A ROUNDWORLD CITY ONCE?

Darcy nods. “Yes. Yes, we did. It looked a lot like Ankh Morpork… well, ancient Ankh Morpork, actually.”

Death held out his hand. VERY WELL THEN. CAN YOU REMEMBER WHAT IT WAS CALLED? I WILL TAKE YOU THERE.

“Good plan,” Darcy says. She looks down at her bag and an idea pops into her mind. Picking it up, she takes a quick look inside to see if the chocolates she bought for her mother are still there - maybe Death can deliver them for her.

To her delight the chocolates are still in the bag, along with everything she packed for the journey - a fan, a beaded purse, three handkerchiefs, a notebook, two pencils, a vial of smelling salts, her favourite pair of reading spectacles, her second best gloves, the crossword from yesterday's Ankh Morpork Times, the train timetable for the Ankh Morpork and Sto Lat Hygienic Railway, and Mrs. Bradshaws Guidebook. Unfortunately all her clothes are in the large trunk left in the railway stations luggage store.

She pulls the chocolates out, looking up at Death as she does so. “Would you mind giving these to Mum? It's the only Hogswatch present I'd gotten so you'll have to give my apologies to everyone else.”

OF COURSE. Death tucks the chocolates into his robe, and then takes Darcy’s hand.

THE CITY? he asks

Darcy chews on her bottom lip as she tries to remember the name of the Roundworld City she visited with her mother so long ago.

“I think,” she says at last, “it's called Londinium.”

A blink of an eye later the forest is empty.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how good is Death at explaining that timey-wimey stuff, huh? And how long do YOU think Darcy is going to be stranded for? 2000 years? 200 years? 20 years?
> 
> I gave up on trying to make the footnotes work, so they're in the body of the fic now. I may have another go at working footnotes another time... maybe...


	3. A Small Infinity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death delivers Darcy to Londinium and Rincewind arrives to help her get settled with an infinite amount of confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as I mentioned in the last chapter notes, I hear Rincewind as Neil from The Young Ones (an 80's BBC comedy) but occasionally I hear his voice as Baldrick, from Blackadder (Tony Robinson, also from Time Team) so if you can't find any Young Ones to watch, try a bit of Blackadder.

 

* * *

 

 

**London, 1863 CE**

 

The city that Death takes Darcy to doesn't look anything like the city she (vaguely) remembers.  

It's a lot taller for one thing. Well, the buildings are taller.

The people are also dressed a lot differently - fewer togas, more trousers and long skirts.

In fact, the place looks an awful lot like modern day Ankh Morpork, but with less trolls, dwarves, and golems.

She only has time for a very brief look around before Death starts talking again.

SOMEONE WILL BE HERE SHORTLY TO HELP YOU SETTLE IN, he says. ER… YOU WILL SEE ME AGAIN SOON.

“I will?”

YES.

And then he is gone.

Darcy stares at where he was for a moment before giving herself a shake and taking another look around. The sun is higher in the sky here than in the forest but its light is filtered through low lying smog, and low heavy cloud.

The city is a LOT like Ankh Morpork but before she can really take anything in, a carriage pulls up beside her. The door opens and a face peers out at her.

“Er, hello? Miss Darcy?”

Darcy blinks in amazement as a man dressed from head to toe in tweed steps out onto the pavement. She squints at the vaguely familiar face for a moment until the hammer of memory rings a gong in her mind.

“Professor… Rincewind?”

“Oh, you do remember me.” Rincewind grimaces his version of a smile. “I've been sent to help get you settled. Hop in.”

As she climbs into the carriage Rincewind takes her bag and stows it safely under the seat next to a slightly larger bag as they start moving.

“Now you're probably very confused about all this,” Rincewind says. “I know I usually am.”

“I did think Great Grandfather was taking me somewhere different,” Darcy replies.

“Oh, you're in the right place. This _is_ Londinium but it's almost 2000 years later than your last visit. It's just called London now.”

“2000 years? That does explain why it doesn't look like I remember. So what happens now? Great Grandfather didn't really tell me anything other than apparently I'm going to be here for a while. A few years, he said.” She finishes with a large yawn as a wave of weariness rolls over her.

“Ah, yes. It does look that way. A few years. Yes. Er. Maybe you should get some rest. We've got a bit of a ways to go.”

“Where are we going?”

“A hotel for tonight, and then we'll take a train out to the country. I found a nice little cottage for you live in while you acclimate.”

“Oh.” Darcy considers this plan. “That sounds like a good plan.”

Silence falls in the carriage for a while. Darcy stares out of the window at the unsettling city. It's similar enough to Ankh Morpork that she could almost - but not quite - imagine that she's on her way to the Opera House, or the Patrician's Palace, or the house her parents bought in Empirical Avenue**** (multidimensional housing isn't such a big problem when you’re Time Himself) except that it isn't and she’s not.

* * *

  _**** Empirical Avenue is a street of houses designed by Bloody Stupid Johnson, the Discworld’s worst inventor. On the outside it is a perfectly normal street, but inside the layout is distorted, for example:_ _  
_

  * _The front door of No.1 opens into the back bedroom of No.15_
  * _The ground floor window of No.3 shows the view from the second storey of No.9_
  * _Smoke from the dining-room fireplace of No.2 comes out of the chimney of No.19_



**[Source](https://wikivisually.com/wiki/Technology_of_the_Discworld) **

* * *

She closes her eyes and tries to rest but her mind keeps running through the events of the day and she's still a bit confused about what's going on.

“What did you mean by help me settle in?” she asks as the gong of memory suddenly rings again.

“Oh, that was your mother's suggestion. She pointed out that because of how you got into Roundworld you won't have the advantage of HEX’s help with being moved around and stuff like we usually do, so she insisted I pose as your uncle and organise everything you'd need to blend in.”

“Like what?” She ignores the uncle bit for now - it doesn't really seem all that important in light of everything else.

“Well, I found you a house, and got you some servants, and a tutor to teach you geography and history and science and local social customs and the politics and-”

“You did all that in half a day?” Darcy exclaims.

“Oh no, it's taken weeks to organise everything,” Rincewind says and then his face goes white. “Oh dear. I wasn't supposed to tell you like that. Sorry.”

“Weeks? I've been gone for weeks? Great Granddad said it was only days!”

“Oh, bugger,” Rincewind mutters, wincing as her voice gets louder and louder. “Look it doesn't really matter how long we take to work it all out, right? ‘Cause once HEX knows how to get you back he can get you from _when_ ever you are and bring you straight back. It could take us twenty years to sort it out but once we do we pick you up from say - five minutes from now - your Dad said he can take you back to just after you left because he's, well- he's Time, right?”

Darcy stares at Rincewind in horrified fascination.

“Almost every part of that last sentence is completely wrong,” she says quietly.

“Er, is it? Because your father said he's already spoken to Returned you.”

Darcy’s eyes almost pop out of her head at this bit of information.

“ _What?_ ”

“Damn,” Rincewind mutters. “I wasn't supposed to tell you that either.”

“I think you need to tell me everything,” Darcy says firmly. “For one thing, if HEX can get you here, along with whatever is needed to buy a house and organise servants, why can’t I just go home?”

“Well, it's partly an infinity thing,” Rincewind explains. “There's an infinitely unimaginable number of alternate universes, right? And HEX didn't have to look in all of them, but it still had to look in a smaller but still infinitely unimaginable number of alternate Roundworlds to find you. And- well, it wasn't easy.”

“But you _did_ find me. So what's the rest of the problem?”

“The magic’s incompatible.”

Darcy's brow wrinkles and her head tilts to one side. “Wait, I thought there was hardly any magic here?”

Rincewind shakes his head. “Well, that's what we thought at first but it turns out that there _is_ magic - lots of it in fact - but it's so completely different to our kind of magic that HEX couldn't even detect it at first. Eventually HEX realised that what we thought was interdimensional cloud is actually the local realities magic.”

She gapes at him. “Incompatible magic?” she repeats slowly. “Interdimensional cloud? I don't understand.”

“The original Roundworld is completely devoid of all magic, right? And up until about twelve hours ago, when you suddenly arrived, so did all of the infinite alternate Roundworlds. But then you arrived, and now some of those infinite alternatives _have_ got magic. Unfortunately for us, it's a magic so different from Disc magic that it fogs everything up and makes it nearly impossible for HEX to see.”

“But you did find me,” she repeats, “and you're here.”

Rincewind gives her a miserable look. “I didn't want to do this you know but they insisted. Said it had to be me.”

“Why can't I go home, Rincewind?”

Rincewind shakes his head. “I'm in enough trouble already,” he moans. “I didn't ask to do this.”

Darcy leans forward and is delighted to discover that she can still channel Great Grandfathers Voice. “TELL. ME. NOW.”

“They only knew where to look because someone from this world slipped through a weak spot and met your parents before you were born,” Rincewind blurts out and then moans again. “That's not fair! You're not supposed to do that!”

“Someone... from here?” She wasn't expecting that. Darcy sinks back into the seat, her mind whirling.

“I'm really sorry,” Rincewind says. “Really - I am.”

“How long?” Darcy gazes up at the ceiling of the carriage, blinking furiously to hold back tears. “Exactly how long am I going to be here?”

Rincewind eyes her nervously. “I'm not supposed to say,” he demurs.

She takes a deep breath, leans forward and stares into the wizard's eyes. “Tell. Me. Everything,” she says, and it's purely out of sympathy for the trouble-prone wizard that she doesn't use the Voice again.

“I don't know everything!”

“Then tell me what you _do_ know.”

Rincewind starts from the beginning but he's only gotten as far as repeating the bit about the wrong kind of magic when the carriage pulls up in front of a building. They've arrived at the hotel.

Alighting from the carriage with the help of the hotel doorman, Darcy enters the hotel just as the sun begins its final glide below the horizon.

Rincewind scurries over to the reception desk, Darcy trailing wearily behind him. She perks up slightly at the sight of a tall, elegantly decorated Hogswatch Tree holding pride of place in the center of an adjoining room.

“Er, yes. Good evening. My niece and I have a reservation for Miss Alexandra Sto Helit.”

And here is another surprise - Darcy understands every word. She was expecting to have to learn the language, but although the accent is strange, she understands everything that's most of what's being said perfectly. There is the odd word or two she understand at all.

“How do they speak Ankh Morporkian?” she hisses at Rincewind as the porter takes their bags and shows them to their suite.

“Actually, it's called English here. That's where we are you see - England. There's a lot of seepage between Discworld and Roundworld. You'll be surprised at how many things in common there are,” he whispers back.

“Why didn't you mention this sooner?”

“Would you like something to eat, sir? Miss?” the porter asks, interrupting their conversation. “The kitchen is open for light supper for another half hour if you're hungry.”

“Oh, yes please! That would be wonderful. Thank you,” Darcy replies gratefully.

“Very well, Miss. I'll be back soon.”

He bows politely as he departs, leaving Darcy and Rincewind alone.

“Alright,” Darcy says, rounding on the hapless wizard. “So what else did you miss when I asked you to tell me everything.”

“Everything is a lot,” Rincewind protests. “And I didn't have that much time.”

“In that case, is there anything else _important_ that I need to know right _now_ ,” Darcy snaps.

“Ah, yes. There is one thing.” Rincewind pauses, feet shuffling a little from side to side as he hunches his shoulders a bit.

Darcy waits.

“I've told the servants at your new house you were shipwrecked on a tropical island since you were ten years old, and you were raised by a family of giant turtles,” Rincewind blurts.

Darcy opens her mouth to speak, stops, starts again, stops again, and collapses into a chair.

“I don't believe it,” she says, barely loud enough for Rincewind to hear. She closes her eyes and leans back. “I'm dreaming,” she says. “I must be dreaming.”

“I tell myself that all the time,” Rincewind says morosely. “It's never true though.”

Darcy opens an eye and glares at Rincewind with all the reproach of a dog with nothing but dry biscuits in its bowl. “Turtles, though? Really?”

Rincewind shrugs. “I thought it would explain any oddities,” he confesses. “You can get away with just about anything with a tragic backstory like that.”

“Be that as it may,” Darcy says, gathering her patience, “you should have included that particular tidbit straight away.”

“I was going to,” he replies, with more than a hint of sulkiness in his voice, “but you completely derailed my introductory speech when you insisted I tell you all about the other stuff,” he says huffily.

Darcy rolls her eyes at him. “The introductory speech you didn't start until I asked you what you meant by settling in?”

“Er, yes. That speech.”

Darcy considers this for a while, but before she can find a response that adequately express her multitudes of feelings, the porter returns with a supper trolley.

With the first sip of tea, Darcy feels some of the tension drain out of her body. She takes another sip and another, and gradually she relaxes. As she unwinds, her brain starts to tick. Something Rincewind said in the carriage doesn't make sense… okay, so a lot of what he's said so far doesn't make any kind of sense yet but… her brain ticks again, and then gives up.

“Ye gods, Rincewind.” She sighs heavily. “This is a fine mess I've landed in, isn't it?”

“If it makes you feel any better, I've been in worse.”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“You're not about to die,” he points out.

“Good point,” she mumbles, reaching for a sandwich.

“I do actually have quite a few good points,” he replies, not quite resentfully. “After all, I'm the one they picked to help you, right?”

Darcy nods. “That's two good points, then.”

She finishes her sandwich and her tea and helps herself to more.

After two cups of tea, several sandwiches, and a rather nice piece of cake, Darcy feels tired but better. Sort of. She has a full belly and she's comfortable and she's slowly coming to terms with her predicament.

“So what happens next?” she asks when they've finished supper and Rincewind has pushed the trolley into the hallway for someone to collect. And promptly yawns so hard it feels like the top of her head almost falls off.

“I think you should get a good night's sleep. That bag-” he points, “-has some extra clothes in it for you. I have to go home and let everyone know you arrived safely,” he replies. “I'll come back in the morning.”

“You're just going to leave me here?” She can't help the high note of alarm in her voice. “What if you can't get back?”

“It's alright - HEX has got a good fix on this place for the next week. He'll get me back as soon as possible. You'll be fine.”

With that, Rincewind takes his leave, and Darcy changes into the night clothes she finds in the extra bag. Before crawling into bed, she goes to the window and pulls the heavy curtain aside just enough to peer out at the lights of the city.

It's a big city. Much bigger than Ankh Morpork. The lights from thousands of buildings, coach lamps, and streetlights stretch far into the distance, glittering icily in the cold winter air.

Something white lands gently on the window and she realises its snowing. If the snow keeps falling, the city will be cloaked in a white blanket come morning. With one last look, she turns away, letting the curtain fall back into place, and climbs into the high bed.

While she rarely goes more than a month or three between visits with her parents, she suspects it's often longer for them. Quite a bit longer sometimes, maybe.

Roundworld may not be home, but it's very similar to home and Darcy had been thinking about an extended trip away, anyhow - sort of, a cross between a diplomatic tour as the new Duchess of Sto Helit and a long holiday.

So instead of visiting Klatch and Howondaland and Lancre and Genua and The Counterweight Continent and XXXX… well, she would visit Roundworld instead.

She could handle a few years away from home. After all, what were a few years to someone who was probably immortal?

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear. Poor Darcy - she has no idea how long she's really going to be in Roundworld... 
> 
> I've got a few other WIP's to try and update/finish before I start/finish the next instalment of this series, but I'm thinking (Mythology) March might be a good timeframe to aim for. Fingers crossed!
> 
> Please, feel free to talk to me about this or any of my other fic on tumblr: [ibelieveinturtles](http://ibelieveinturtles.tumblr.com/) Tell me your feelings, your theories, your guesses on the hints I've dropped for what's in the future!

**Author's Note:**

> I spent well over an hour trying to get these footnotes to work... please let me know if they don't, and I'll take the little buggers out/do them a different way. I'm over it. EDIT: They didn't work the way I wanted them too so I changed them. 
> 
> Yes, I am planning on writing more (okay, there’s already about 18000 words written so far but some of them are very disconnected *laughs desperately*.)  
> No, I don’t know when I’ll get the next part ready - what I’ve already written is set well after this, and probably requires me to write more backstory first. Plus there's a lot of gaps to fill in. *sighs* (And I have other wips I neeeeed to finish/update!)  
> Also, even though I do have a ‘ship endgame in mind for this, I'll be posting the stories as a series and not one long multi-chapter thing that will never get finished. So some bits will be gen and some bits won't. Finally, if I don't have a completed instalment, I won't post it.  
> Finally, if you need explanations about anything, please ask! I’m happy to go back and add more footnotes if needed. And if you haven’t read any Discworld yet, I envy you, cos I’d love to still have unread Discworld to look forward to. *weeps*  
> My Tumblr, if you're interested, is  
> [ibelieveinturtles](http://ibelieveinturtles.tumblr.com/)


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